How it’s a living thing. I like to think about what was going on the year the grapes were growing; how the sun was shining; if it rained. I like to think about all the people who tended and picked the grapes. And if it’s an old wine, how many of them must be dead by now. I like how wine continues to evolve, like if I opened a bottle of wine today it would taste different than if I’d opened it on any other day, because a bottle of wine is actually alive. And it’s constantly evolving and gaining complexity. That is, until it peaks, like your ’61. And then it begins its steady, inevitable decline.
Hello, Miles. It’s Maya. Thanks for your letter. I-I would have called sooner, but I think I needed some time to think about everything that happened and… what you wrote to me. Another reason, um, I didn’t call you sooner is because I wanted to finish your book, which I finally did last night. And I think it’s really lovely, Miles. You’re so good with words. Who cares if it’s not getting published? There are so many beautiful and… painful things about it. Did you really go through all that? Must have been awful. And the sister character – jeez, what a wreck. But I have to say that, well, I was really confused by the ending. I mean, did the father finally commit suicide, or what? It’s driving me crazy. Anyway, it’s turned cold and rainy here lately, but I like winter. So, listen, if you ever do decide to come up here again, you should let me know. I would say stop by the restaurant, but to tell you the truth, I’m not sure how much longer I’m gonna be working there, because I’m going to graduate soon. So, I’ll probably want to relocate. I mean, we’ll see. Anyway, like I said, I really loved your novel. Don’t give up, Miles. Keep writing. I hope you’re well. Bye.
You know, the day you open a ’61 Cheval Blanc… that’s the special occasion.
I’m the queen of typos.
